The other day I arrived at work and proceeded to the elevator area. A good old-fashioned fatty big-boned gal came out of a door as I stood there waiting. She had a look of frustration on her brow and was focused on her path. I took note of her displeasure as it was nice to see and it immediately brightened my morn’. All of a sudden she stopped quickly, turned around, said “Son of a bitch!” quite loudly and proceeded back into the door from whence she came. I can only assume that 30 minutes earlier she’d been sitting at her desk with a Twix bar and a Snickers that her friend Susan had given her and was having a tough time deciding which to eat. After half an hour of deep thought, she settled on the Snickers which took less than 8 seconds for her to consume and then she was up and on her way. Having walked 18 feet from her desk, the fact that she didn’t eat both treats was too much to bear and she had to go back for old Twixxy. Congratulations on your first two-chocolate-bar breakfast. Let me tell you, Tubalina, that you’ve just begun a hike down what is a long, slippery slope. At the bottom of the slope? Painful 4 am constipation and 4:30 am acid reflux. Welcome to the party, pal!
See, now that last paragraph was entirely uncalled for. Why couldn’t I have written a tale about something positive and uplifting? Do I always have to be a smart ass and look on the dark side of things, being altogether offensive and inappropriate? What’s wrong with me? How did I get like this?
Yes, I’ve used ‘Monkey Wrench’ before, now why don’t you go fuck your mother some more. Crap. There I go again.